


New Rules

by SpecialAgentFiction



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Can't believe that's a legit tag, F/M, I tried to make it gender neutral but I'm pretty sure I failed, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining, Snarky Leonard "Bones" McCoy, title stolen from Dua Lipa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecialAgentFiction/pseuds/SpecialAgentFiction
Summary: You didn’t ask for their help. In fact, you actively declined their input into the situation but Uhura scares you and Bones has a kick-ass stare and suddenly you’re letting them come up with a list of rules for how to live your life without falling head-over-heels in love with Jim Kirk.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Original Female Character(s), James T. Kirk/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

Uhura found you face down on a sticky bar top with your arm acting as a pillow. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last, but she sighs anyway and slides onto the stool next to you. With a practiced wave to the bartender she has a drink poured and set in front of her by the time you crack a bleary eye open and realise she’s there.

“What?”

She snorts at your greeting. “Charming.” She sips at the drink.

You watch her; studying how out of place she looks in this dive of a bar; her sleek ponytail swooshing around softly as she takes in the place. You let her get another mouthful of God-awful scotch down her throat before you push yourself up and shake out your now dead arm.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, elaborating on your one-word greeting.

“Len called.”

You pivot on your stool immediately to glare at the man sat one down from you. He merely stares at you with a single raised eyebrow as he lets his own glass dangle from his fingertips.

“You called Ny?” You ask, your own face as impassive as his. “You _tattled_ on me?”

He sighs. “Darlin’ I have not got an ounce of the patience needed to sit here and listen to you whine.”

“I was not _whining.”_

“You were sitting there pouting; it’s a small step from pouting to whining.” He takes a drink as you scoff. “And I’m a doctor; it’s my job to prevent so I don’t need to cure.”

“You’re such an ass.” He lifts the glass slightly in agreement and downs its contents in one. You turn back to Nyota with an eyeroll. “Apologies for wasting your time.” She bats you away as she takes a sip before resting her elbow on the bar and propping her hand in her chin. You suppress a groan as she gives you The Look.

Nyota Uhura was a force to be reckoned with at pretty much any moment of the day but she was at her most lethal on two specific occasions: 1) The Enterprise is being fired at and she can’t get a hold of all decks to pass on specific instructions or, 2) she’s giving you The Look. On occasion number one, it’s safer to just leave her be as she grasps onto her comms panel and screams orders into her headset and once the shooting calms, she’s fine again. But if you happen to find yourself in situation two, there’s absolutely nothing you can do to move her on.

“Why are you drinking?” It’s a fairly light question but the piercing gaze that hasn’t moved from you in the last 30 seconds is making it feel like she’s asked you to justify every bad decision you’ve ever made and considering most were made under the influence of _very_ heavy drinking; it’s a loaded one.

You swallow lightly and try to avoid looking at her as you try to figure out exactly why you are in this dive bar so far from your usual haunts with a one stool gap between yourself and Bones. “I-” You fail and cut yourself off.

“Jim’s on a date.”

You slump back on the stool with a groan as Bones’ words filter past you and towards a curious Nyota. “Are we seriously doing this again?” You ask the doctor.

“Kirk’s on a date.” Uhura repeats. “That explains the gap.” She nods to the empty stool between you and the doctor. “But not the whole head-on-bar thing.”

“I-”

“No, no.” Bones cuts you off again. “It’s not that Jim’s on a date.” He says to the woman. “It’s that he’s not on one with…” He trails off and you just know he’s giving you a long sideways glance.

“You know, for someone who says they care so little, you know an awful lot.” You accuse as you sit forward again with your own elbows resting against the sticky wood as you cup the back of your neck in exasperation.

“Maybe if you’d stop yabberin’ about your problems 3 inches away from my ears then-”

“When are you going to admit that you care about-”

“When Hell freezes over darlin’.”

Nyota laughs gently as you and Bones glare at each other before returning to the topic that piqued her attention in the first place.

“I still don’t get it.”

You groan and let your head fall forward.

“They’ve been doing the nasty.” Bones tells her as you stare at your feet. “You know; bumpin’ uglies, playin’ hide the salami, dancin’ the horizontal hula?”

You lift your head to stare incredulously at him. “Should I be concerned about the sheer number of euphemisms you have stored in that brain of yours?”

Bones merely looks at you before his eyes skip over to Uhura and with an easy smirk he hammers the final nail into your coffin. “They’re sleeping together.”

“You’re sleeping with Kirk?!”

“Thanks Bones.”

“Anytime kid.”

* * *

You weren’t entirely sure how Uhura had got you off the bar stool and into a booth at the very back of the bar but suddenly there was a fresh glass in your hand as she faced you with a look that was a perfect mix of disappointment and intrigue.

“Stop looking like I’ve just told you I threw a puppy out the air lock.”

“I just…” She shook herself. “You and Kirk?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ny.” You leant back into the worn leather. “It…just happened.”

“Now that’s not how I remember it.” Your eyes closed in disbelief as a new body slid onto your side of the booth.

“I thought you didn’t care.” You reminded him.

“Kid, if I cut your and Jim’s drama out of my life, all that’s left is whiskey and hypos; a man needs a reason to drown himself in drink and you two idiots are the perfect catalyst.”

“Aww Len…” You rest your head on his shoulder. “…you say the sweetest things.” He shrugs you off with an incoherent grumble and you’re forced to face Nyota again.

“You and Kirk.” She prompts again.

“They’ve been makin’ moon eyes at each other for years.” Bones scoffs. “Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” You roll your eyes at him.

“How _did_ it happen? In all the years I’ve known you, the closest you’ve gotten is a fairly intense wrestle for a study PADD.”

“Turns out all they needed was enough scotch to pickle Virginia and some weird-ass 20th century psychedelic rock.” Bones tells her as you sigh deeply. “They were just dancin’ one minute, I look away and the next time I see them he’s got his tongue-”

“It just happened.” You clarify quickly, blushing slightly at the hazy memories of that night. “And then it happened again.”

“And again.” Bones adds. “And again.” He takes a drink. “The things I’ve walked in on…” He shudders dramatically as Nyota laughs again. “Trust me; not knowing about it was better for your health.”

“We’re having fun.” You tell her, elbowing Bones sharply and swerving his retaliation.

“So why the pouting?”

“I told you you were pouting.”

“Yes, thank you Leonard; your observational skills are off the scale tonight.”

“Jim’s having fun with someone else right now and someone…” He shoots you another look. “…doesn’t like it.”

“It’s not that it’s just…” You sigh and slump back. “…okay yes it’s exactly that and I hate myself for it.” You steal Leonard’s drink and ignoring his splutter of impertinence you take a long drag from the warm glass. “Jim’s my _best friend_.” You remind them. “We went to pre-school together and this nonsense would have been fine at any other time in my life but we’re in Starfleet now; on a star ship with a crew and we _can’t_ fuck it up.” You run a hand through your hair. “He’s my best friend and I don’t know how to stop feeling like I want to cry because I helped him pick out a shirt for his date and then tracked misery guts down, so I wouldn’t be alone.” You shoot Len an apologetic look. “No offence.”

“None taken.”

“So get over him.” Your laughter at Nyota’s suggestion dies quickly when you realise you’re the only one responding in such a way.

“Did you not see the whole head-on-bar thing I had going on?” You ask, nodding to the seat you’d been forced from. “I’m working on it.”

“That’s not how you get over someone.” She tells you with a non-committal wave of her hand. She sees you staring patiently at her and raises an incredulous eyebrow. “That was seriously your plan? Drink and pout?”

“It was working perfectly-”

“Oh honey.” She reached across the both and takes your hand. “You poor, pathetic thing.”

* * *

You woke the next morning with considerably less of a hangover than you’d planned and considering how much light was flooding the room, you were insanely grateful for the dull ache behind your eyes that wasn’t a hot knife being driven into your skull.

You let out a soft sigh as you scrubbed at your eyes and let yourself just lay here for a little while, letting the absolute silence sooth you. The silence was interrupted quickly though as the body next to you, the one you hadn’t even noticed, began to fidget and promptly rolled over with soft snore.

Your head turned to the person and you felt your fingers cross instinctively as the familiarity of the room led you to the conclusion that the body was that of James Tiberius Kirk. When it was a head of brunette hair and not blonde that greeted you, you let out a sigh of relief and began mentally preparing a letter to Starfleet about not making their officer accommodation so damn generic.

Uhura let out another snort of a snore before settling into a rhythmic pattern of soft growls with every exhale. You fought the urge to laugh at the sight of her birds-nest hair and crumpled clothes from the night before and instead slipped as silently as possible from the sheets to pad into the kitchen.

Thank God you were in her apartment and not a few floors above in Jim’s. After the harrowing recollection of your quasi-relationship from Leonard last night, you weren’t sure you could live with yourself if you’d fallen so easily into bed with him again.

“Good Morning, Lieutenant.”

Your hand instinctively came up to your heart as you let a squeak of surprise at the voice from the kitchen counter. Your wide eyes settled on the figure quickly and you felt your heart rate slow as you corrected your earlier assessment of your surroundings. Not Jim’s apartment, not even Uhura’s apartment, no; you were in Spock’s apartment.

“Spock.” You greeted the man as you slid onto a breakfast bar stool and rested your forehead in one hand. “Sorry for kicking you out of your bed.”

“It is of no problem.” He told you as he moved from the PADD displaying this morning’s news headlines to the coffee machine. “Yourself and Lieutenant Uhura were in far greater need of it than I.”

You flashed him a grateful smile. “Yeah, we may have had a few too man-” You stopped yourself and turned to face the rest of the open-plan living space behind you. “What happened to Len?” You asked, more to yourself than to the man behind you.

“Doctor McCoy declined my offer of the couch and instead insisted he _was ‘not drunk enough for a sleepover’_ and was only here to _‘make sure the little ladies got home safe’_.”

“Ain’t he a sweetheart.” You drawled, turning back to the counter with images of Bones staggering back down the corridor to his own room. God, he was probably passed out in an elevator.

“I took the liberty of transcribing your notes from last night for you.” Spock told you as he set a mug of steaming coffee in front of you. “The soggy bar mat was unlikely to last much longer.” He slid a fresh PADD over to you and you frowned at the four bullet points neatly typed out for you. “And may I say that I commend you for deciding to forgo a romantic relationship with the Captain in favour of retaining your friendship.”

“I-”

“Lieutenant Uhura managed to recount the conversational topic of your night before passing out next to you.”

“Ah.” You took a sip of the still piping hot coffee and avoiding looking at him.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of.” He told you. “I admire your decision. Though, if I may; I have some advice.”

You sigh and rub at your head. “Fire away Spock.” 

“May I advise exercising caution when implementing Rule 3 on your list?” You glanced back to the PADD. “Yourself and the Captain have an…enviable friendship; born from your childhood years together in Iowa. It is a friendship others often strive for and while I am aware Jim counts myself and Doctor McCoy as his closest friends from Starfleet, it is you who, as Doctor McCoy has frequently put it; is his pea in a pod.”

You took another sip of coffee as he spoke and let his words wash over you in a wave of concern. You and Spock weren’t overly close; you’d become friends through Jim and the amount of time you spent alone with the Vulcan was minimal, but you respected him and Nyota was head-over-heels for him, so you had to give him credit for that. So you supposed you and he were friends, and you appreciated his words; it was nice to be reminded that Jim had others looking out for him these days and it wasn’t just up to you to mop him up.

“It is my belief that the Captain would take it…poorly if in attempt to save your friendship with him, you removed yourself from his life.”

“If we continue as we are, Spock, there’s no knowing how it ends; and I’m not going to throw away my career on the Federation’s flagship for a couple of good lays.”

“As I have said Lieutenant; something I commend you for.” He offered you a small smile. “My concern is for how you and Jim will manage without the other.”

“It’s not like I’d blank him in the corridor.” You laugh. “I just need some space before it becomes a shit storm that takes down the Enterprise; god knows there’s enough drama on the bridge without us two screaming at each other more than we already do.”

“One day, I would like to visit your hometown and analyse the culture of your people.” You quirked an eyebrow at the comment. “The sense of duty yourself and the Captain possess is remarkable. I have not seen it in many others from here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say that; the entire bridge crew-”

“Are also embedded with sense of duty, I agree. But I believe it is one they learnt. Yourself and Jim on the other hand…”

“We only really had each other, Spock.” You reminded him. “Putting someone else first has been our entire lives.”

“And that I why I am cautious about the implementation of Rule 3.” You laughed at how succinctly he brought it back around to his previous topic and raised your mug in a toast.

“I’ll bear it in mind.”

He smiled at you again before moving back to the coffee machine as the sounds of Uhura rolling out of bed filled your ears. Moments later the Communications Officer stumbled through the bedroom door with a groan.

“I feel like someone force fed me sandpaper.”

“That’ll be the snoring.” You tell her with a grin.

Her eyes fix on you with a laser glare “I do _not_ snore.” She looks up to Spock as he crosses the room to hand her a mug and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Do I?”

“It is not something I’ve ever heard.” He tells her, and you supress a snort and instead mutter _‘coward’_ into your coffee as the woman looks up at him with a breath-taking smile.

You watch the pair interact and wish it could be that easy for you. Your eyes flitter back to the PADD in front of you and sigh; Jim Kirk meant the world to you, but you knew that Starfleet meant more to you both and you wouldn’t be the one to mess it all up. This was an adventure you’d started together and burgeoning feelings for your best friend weren’t going to be the reason you experienced the rest of it alone.

Your eyes scanned the four points that had originally been scrawled by BONES AND Uhura after a few too many, and with a sigh you made a promise to yourself to implement them immediately.

* * *

_New Rules:_

  * _Don’t pick up the phone; you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone_
  * _Don’t let him in; you’ll have to kick him out again_
  * _Don’t be his friend; you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning_
  * _And if you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him_




	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**Rule 1 - Don’t pick up the phone; you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone**

* * *

You broke the first rule almost immediately.

In your defence though, it was 3am and you’d spent all day trying to decipher updates scrawled by overworked red-shirts, whilst merging your diary with the rest of the bridge crew for a first walk-through of the refurbished Enterprise. So, when your communicator began beeping and screeching at you, you’d naturally sat up ramrod straight in bed and braced yourself for the sirens and ominous red-lighting that usually accompanied a 3am wake-up.

“’Lo?” You barely managed the single syllable as your throat contracted painfully and you knew that your pillow would have a gloriously sexy sheen of drool if you glanced back at it.

“Hey!” Your shoulders relaxed at the voice that greeted you and you let yourself run a tired hand through your hair as the relief of there being no actual emergency flooded through you.

“Jim?” You asked, even though you knew it was him. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” He repeated, his voice fading slightly as music blared through the speaker to your empty room. “Well for one; you’re not here!”

And it was in that exact moment that you remembered the rules. Specifically; rule 1. You let your eyes close softly and fell backwards into your mattress, communicator still pressed to your ear, as Jim talked incessantly into your ear about nothing in particular. You could clearly hear the way his tongue was loosened by alcohol and your mind was already filled with the image of his bright eyes and lopsided smile as he sees you walk into whatever club he’s holed up in.

Your heart responds to the unbridled joy in his voice and you find yourself smiling softly as he tells you exactly why _this_ club on _this_ night is _the best_ _one_ you’ll ever go to.

Your hand is toying with the sheet covering you when rule 1 flashes in your mind again and your fingers still, all tempting thoughts of leaving this bed and joining him vanish in a heartbeat and all that’s left is the realisation that he is drunk and had likely dialled you because yours was the only one his fingers could dial on muscle memory alone, or because he knew that his capacity for a decent pick-up line and easy smile was significantly diminished so no stranger would fall for it. But you would. You had.

You knew that in the moment; with your legs intertwined with his and a breath caught in the back of your throat as he worked your body with complete precision, that you wouldn’t regret falling into his bed. But in the morning, when your senses returned and the space beside you would be empty and cold, you’d feel like a fool. A dirty, stupid fool.

“You need to take a drink of water and go home, Jim.” You tell him during one rare pause in his flow. “It’s 3am and you have a meeting at 10.” Your eyes strayed to the clock and you sighed. “We both have a meeting at 10.” You corrected.

There was a pause from him and your ear was filled with music far too upbeat and loud to be used for call waiting before he responded. “You’re not coming?”

“I barely got out of my uniform and was happily face down in my pillow before you called, Jim.” You tell him. “Nothing in this universe would get me back into actual clothes.”

“I-”

“Nothing.” You repeat, cutting across the smirk you heard blooming in his voice as he no doubt readied a suggestive comment that would have your muscles tightening in anticipation.

“Oh.”

You take another glance to the clock and force down a groan as more of your precious sleep ticked away. “Jim?” You call out to him, the line surprisingly quiet. “You still there?”

“I’m here.” You heard the faint sound of a door closing and you hoped he was heading towards the street and not further into a club that would leave him with bloodshot eyes and a grey pallor for the meeting.

“Is anyone else with you?” You ask. “You gonna be okay getting home?”

“Yeah…yeah I’m good.” He was distant again but the sounds of the street around him comforted you. He was on his way home and sounding distinctly more sober that when he’d called. “Go back to sleep; I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Later.” You remind him. “You’ll see me later.”

“Yeah.” You heard a muffled sound come from the speaker and imagined him covering it with his hand as he muttered his addressed to a cab driver. “See you later.”

Communicator back on your bedside and room blissfully silent again, you let your eyes drift closed and welcomed the coolness of the other half of your bed as you chased your disturbed dreaming.

20 minutes later you were in your kitchen with a pen in one hand as you rifled through drawers searching for scraps of paper as you muttered about the impracticality of PADDs for this.

By 6am you’d papered your apartment in copies of the list, ensuring that no matter where you stood or sat or lay, you were reminded of what _not_ to do in regards to Jim Kirk. And you didn’t care how psychotic it made you seem; rule 2 meant he wouldn’t be seeing the inside of this place anytime soon.

You repeated the four seemingly easy steps that Nyota had assured you would help your suffering heart and you resolved yourself to stick to them; to actually check the call ID before picking up and not letting him almost talk you into a night of hot, sweaty, unbelievable-

You cut yourself off and forced a mouthful of bitter coffee as punishment for that line of thought.

Jim had been drunk and alone and had likely struck out with the nearest 20 patrons, that’s what you had to remind yourself of. You hadn’t been in his mind when he’d first ventured out and you were only on it then because he knew you’d be an easy lay.

You were falling hard for Jim Kirk, but he wasn’t falling for you. Hell, he wasn’t even stumbling in your direction.

And so, as you headed to the shower with barely any sleep fuelling you, you chanted your new rules to yourself and resolved that rules 2 to 4 wouldn’t be as hard to learn as 1.

* * *

**Rule 2 - Don’t let him in; you’ll have to kick him out again**

* * *

Okay, so rule 2 was a nightmare. Nyota clearly had no idea how much time Jim spent in your quarters when she’d neatly printed out the order to not let him cross your threshold. If it wasn’t late night movie marathons then it was waking you up with a steaming mug and a box of doughnuts and even though the reduced amounts of popcorn and baked-goods were likely doing wonders for your cholesterol, the place felt a little…cold…without him in it.

Which is exactly why you spent so much time out these days.

It started with upping the ante at the gym and taking great pleasure in your newfound ability to flip a man three-times your size onto his back with only the slightest of sweats before happily taking all the money bet against you by his friends. You were quickly banned from the Academy mats after one too many cadets limped away from your ‘training sessions’.

Then it was shopping. So much shopping. You’d only had to mention to Ny that you needed something new to boost your spirits and she’s happily pulled you through every department store in San Francisco and filled your closet to capacity. You were dreading the completion of the Enterprise refit because closet sizes on the ship was not something you’d had a hand in redesigning.

So that left drinking and as wonderful as Leonard McCoy is five whiskeys in, he was no substitute for the heart pounding, sweat soaked and laughter filled evening you’d just spent with Jim in a hazy nightclub on the water’s edge. And so, with mascara beginning to smudge under your eyes and a pair of heels dangling from your fingers you found yourself leaning against the cool wall of your building’s elevator with Jim’s jacket around your shoulders and a laugh on your lips as he blabbered on about the view of San Francisco the glass wall behind you offered.

It was only when you were padding towards your door did the familiarity of the situation hit you.

When you’d been getting ready hours earlier, you’d assured yourself that this night would be different, that you were stronger now and would not end up under the sheets with Jim with a heart full of misery when he wasn’t there in the morning light. You vowed to do yourself proud and when that hadn’t been enough, you’d vowed to make Ny proud. Dress on, hair done and a low whistle from the man you’d gone through the awkward brace phase with, you’d done everything but place an anti-Jim spell on the doorway to ensure rule 2 remained intact.

“This is my stop.” You told him as the bright numbers counting upwards began to near your floor. He nodded to himself, eyes still on the shrinking city as they rose.

You watched him as the number continued to tick on; his shirt taut against his back with his hands plunged deep into his pockets and you didn’t need the highly polished glass to tell you there was a contented look in his eyes. You wondered if one last night would be worth it. Wondered what harm it could do. Surely you were allowed a final night with him? Hell, you didn’t really remember your previous rendezvous so maybe having one night where you knew it would be the last time would be-

The soft ding of the elevator broke you from your traitorous thoughts and you shook your head to clear them as the doors parted with a soft hiss. “See you in the morning.” You mumbled behind you as you stepped out, annoyed at how a simple glance at him could provoke such a strong urge in you.

“You know, some would say it’s rude to not offer someone a nightcap after such a long elevator ride together.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the words he had uttered so often that his timing was impeccable. Sometimes, you swore he took notes from all those rom-coms you forced him to watch because right now, with your hand covering the door sensor, stopping it from closing, and his jacket still around your shoulders, you could be living a Hollywood drama. You turned your head slightly to watch him and again, it was picture perfect - arms crossed, back to the cityscape that had held his attention for the entire rise, and a single eyebrow raised to emphasises his smile; he was sex on a stick and damn you wanted it.

You pull the jacket from your shoulders and hold it out to him. “Goodnight Jim.” His fingers close around the material as the unblocked sensor speaks for you and closes the door between you. You stand there for a moment, listening as the elevator continues upwards before turning back to your corridor.

You wonder if he wishes you’d let him pull you back into the metal box and whisk you upstairs. You wonder if he merely shrugged and chalked it up to you being a tease. You wondered if he would ever love you as much as you loved him.

Fingers working on autopilot, the code to enter your quarters is entered quickly and you find yourself in bed, fully dressed with a tear rolling down your painted cheeks.

Ny said it would be hard. Leonard said you’d be grateful to be rid of him. You sigh and wonder if letting a door close between you would be as easy next time.

* * *

**Rule 3 - Don’t be his friend; you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning**

* * *

You hadn’t planned on ignoring Spock’s advice. In fact, you’d analysed his words to the point of obsession as rule 3 loomed in your life. But, predictably, when the time came to actually implement his wise words, everything went to shit.

The news that the Enterprise was space-ready again honestly couldn’t have come at a better time; the crew were getting restless as their time on Earth dragged along while other ships (albeit significantly less damaged ones) zoomed off the repair dock and into space and you were all forced into another hours long meeting with the admiralty about what _not_ to do if faced with the same explosive situation again.

So what should have been a joyous time when your friendship with Jim could go from strength to strength as you refilled your quarters on the Enterprise and chatted about plans for deep space, was in fact a hectic, stress-filled time with new crew members constantly being added to your personnel lists and schedules for orientations of said new crew constantly changing. Truthfully, by the time you slid into your seat on the bridge and the ship pulled away from the dock, you hadn’t actually spoken to Jim in three weeks.

Three weeks spiralled into more and soon the only communication you were swapping were updates from your tactical station as the ship made its way through the cosmos.

_“It’s not like I’d blank him in the corridor.”_

And to be fair, you didn’t. Granted a half-smile exchanged between you as you headed in opposite directions wasn’t the same as him pulling you to one side to share a joke Hikaru had offered over lunch or you updating him on where you’d hidden Scotty’s wrench, but it wasn’t ignoring each other.

And that’s what you kept telling yourself, ignoring how easily you’d managed to slip form each other’s lives after so long spent in each other’s pockets. If you didn’t know any better, you’d compare it to an amicable separation; you shared the same friends and when you weren’t being pulled to different parts of the ship you sometimes managed to share a dinner, granted the rest of the bridge gang were there too but…

_“We only really had each other, Spock.”_

You supposed that was the root of it. In Iowa it had been the two of you running through corn fields as children and laughing in bars as semi-adults. Your lives had revolved around each other because there was nothing else to occupy your time. Even in the Academy, when Bones first entered your lives, you were still too close to be deemed normal by most; Len would find you both sprawled on Jim’s bed with PADDs in your laps and snacks around you, or Nyota would sigh as she entered your shared room to find Jim fast asleep beside you. These days your inner circle had expanded significantly. Aside from Bones and Ny, two people who you’d accepted eagerly into your little group, you now had Spock, Hikaru, Pavel, Scotty and on occasion Christine and Keenser too, with each bringing their own personalities and quirks into the mix leaving you with a family you’d never even dreamed of.

So it wasn’t just you two any more. You could lean on other people for different things and while it was often frustrating to have to explain what you mean when you point at something and huff (Jim always just knew what you meant) it was a price worth paying for your little family.

_“My concern is for how you and Jim will manage without the other.”_

You wanted to snort at that one. You and Jim were nothing if not resilient so managing without someone was hard initially, but you got used to it. Stepping out of the elevator and him not following had become an accepted pattern fairly quickly on Earth and Jim never questioned your pulling away from that part of your friendship. Having parents who were called away for business off-planet meant you both came well-equipped to handle people stepping away from you for a time.

So you see, Spock’s advice was easily ignored when the rest of your life came crashing in and you weren’t really to blame for how easily you’d slipped away from each other. But if you’d listened, if you’d tried to keep in touch with him and keep an eye on him when things got hectic, you wouldn’t be here right now.

Because here was a place you’d prayed you’d never be again.

You rubbed a tired hand over your face and glanced at the silent clock to your right. Sighing when you realised barely ten minutes had passed, you settled into the chair that had been dragged in for you and resigned yourself to a long night.

The doors to the private room you were in hissed open and you forced a small smile when Len stepped through and moved to the panel of vitals blaring down at you from the opposite wall. “Will you stop me if I strangle him?” You ask and you watch as the doctor lets out a soft sigh before turning to you.

“Sweetheart, I’d hold him down for you.”

You smile an honest smile at the man and watch him jab at the screens for more information. You may not be a doctor, but you do know that the man laying between you both was, at this moment, stable even though unconscious.

“I can’t look at him, Len.” You tell him as he abandons the panel with a huff. “Every time I try I’m back in the Medbay and you’re zipping up a body bag and-” You trail off with a small sob and clasp a hand over your mouth to keep the tears at bay as Len crosses to stand beside you, his hand a heavy comfort on your shoulder.

“I know darlin’. I know.” His southern drawl lengthens as he tries to soothe you and you want to laugh and cry at the same time because the situation is so damned familiar to what happened last time you took your eyes off him for longer than five minutes.

“I can’t believe he went to the surface without telling me.” You say as the urge to bawl your eyes out starts to pass. “Even if we didn’t already know it was a Class M planet, he should have taken me with him; I’m his damned Tactical Off-” Len squeezes your shoulder softly and you stop, knowing your tirade would be pointless. “What sort of man thinks he can take on a 7ft alien from a planet we know almost nothing about?”

“The same sort that climbs into a warp core or pushes a grieving Vulcan to the point of blind rage.” He reminds you. You snort a laugh and his hand leaves you.

“I can’t remember the last time I actually spoke to him properly.” You admit as Bones perches on the arm of your chair. “Things just got so busy and I stopped letting him into my room, so we never got the chance to talk and-”

“He would have fought the damn alien even if you were there, even if you’d still been screwing him.” He tells you. “He just that much of an idiot.”

You smile again and with Len at your side you finally feel brave enough to look at the man you were happily berating. Your eyes close almost immediately as they land on a nasty gash along his jaw, but you force them open and take in the rest of his face and arms.

You sigh. “Give me the run-down.” Bones stands and moves back to the panel, opens the data files and gestures to images of broken bones with clear disdain. He’d done all he could for now, he told you, Jim was alive and a little battered but the wonders of 23rd century medicine had healed him internally.

You watch Bones point at the screen again and then mutter about the idiocy of his best friend/most frequent patient and feel a warmth flood you that you hadn’t noticed missing for quite some time now; being summoned to the Medbay after a bout of stupidity had become routine for you and Christine Chapel had often been comming you before the Captain had even arrived from the transporter room. You were each other’s emergency contacts and though it was rare to be apart during surface missions, solo meetings often ended in a broken arm when Jim Kirk was involved. The familiarity of it all was a comfort. You’d been desperately alone on this starship of hundreds for some time now and longed for someone to come and understand you as effortlessly as Jim could. If you couldn’t have that, then maybe a glimpse at what you’d one had with the man you’d grown up with would do.

“You should get some sleep.” Bones’ voice broke you from your thoughts and you wondered just how long the doctor had stood and watched you stare at Jim with a soft smile on your face. “It’s going to be along one; I dosed him good.” You nod and settle into the chair, eyeing a blanket at the foot of Jim’s bed. “It’ll kill your back.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.” You tell Bones, understanding his words immediately. “And like I said, we haven’t even talking in weeks, waking up with me on his chest is hardly-”

“I won’t give you anything when you come crying to me about a sore spine from sleeping upright when there was a perfectly good bed in the room.”

“Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Do I need to call Nurse Chapel in to explain the importance of lumbar support?”

You scowl at him and push yourself from the chair. “I hate you.”

He laughs and calls out for the lights to turn down as you slide onto the mattress beside Jim and relish in the closeness you’d been missing. “G’night darlin’.”

* * *

A hand on your shoulder had you stirring from your slumber and with bleary eyes you focused on Bones as he hovered above you. It all came back to you then; the surface mission and panicked call to the Medbay all leading up to waking in this position; head on Jim’s shoulder and an arm across his middle as machines beeped gently in the background.

“What time is it?”

“11:57.” He held a hand out to you. “Though you’d want to jump into the chair; stretch out a little.” You eye the way you were splayed across Jim and nod, accepting his help to move from the bed without waking its true occupant.

“Was I crushing him?” You ask as Len settles a blanket over you and you file the soft action away to tease him about another time.

“No darlin’.” He says, brushing a hand over your hair. “But I figured you’d want to be out of his bed before the clock ticks over.” You glance up at him questioningly. “Rule 3.” He squeezes your shoulder once as you shoot him a grateful smile and watch him check over Jim’s vitals as the clock chimes 12 and begins to usher in the morning.

* * *

**Rule 4 – And if you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him**

* * *

“Sex complicated things.” You told him, hands wringing in front of you as you avoided his gaze. “Complicated me.” You added, meeting his eyes briefly before you looked away again.

“You got more complicated?” Jim asks, frowning at you as he sits upright in his hospital bed. “Fuck. Well I’m bailing then.” Your head shoots up and you meet his eyes, your heart hammering in your chest because this was _not_ what you wanted to happen. You’d assumed that by dropping a very heavy hint as to why you’d pulled away would be enough to get you both back on track, but you didn’t think you’d push him further away.

“Jim-”

“I mean; you take your coffee differently depending on what time of day it is which by the way, is super hard to judge on a starship but I manage it, you claim to hate cliché films but I’ve watched so many shitty rom-coms with you that we both know it’s a lie, you said yellow makes you look sickly but you wear command gold with pride and you flee from wasps but take down men twice your size as a part of your day job.” He runs a hand through his soft, sleep mussed hair. “I don’t have enough room in my brain for more complicated.” He sighs and fixes you with a serious look. “So, you’re gonna have to own up about the rom-coms.”

There was a beat of silence between you before your hand clamped around the cushion that had been propping your neck up all night and hurl it at him, taking great satisfaction in the thud it made when colliding with his face.

The pillow falls, and you’re greeted with a grin that Jim shares only with those closest to him “You’re such an ass.” You huff. “I’m telling Bones to just leave you in a corner next time you get mauled by a mutated Gorn.”

“You wouldn’t-” He pauses and it’s like a light goes off behind his eyes as they widen slightly. “It did look like a Gorn!” He exclaims.

“You have the brain of a tribble.” You tell him as you continue folding the blanket from the night before. “How you made Captain, I’ll never now.”

“Intelligence, charm, wit…” He trailed off with a smile as the door to the room opened.

“Blind luck more like.” You flash Bones a smile as Jim’s drops slightly at the doctor’s words, but he perks up quickly.

“So Bones-y…” He begins, and you withhold a laugh at the look Len shoots him. “…Am I fighting fit and bridge ready?”

“No, but you are annoyingly alert and I’m within reach of a hypospray.” Jim’s hands shoot up in surrender immediately and he settles back as Len once again pokes at the vitals screen and you wonder how he hasn’t broken the glass after a night of jabbing furiously at it. “Unbelievably, you’re not just alive but relatively unscathed; you’re welcome by the way.” Bones announces as he turns from the screen. “But my legendary hands might not be enough next time you go off half-cocked on a Class M planet.”

“But that won’t happen again, will it Jim?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at the Captain. “Because next time, you’ll follow regulations and take your Tactical Officer with you, wont you?”

“Why do I get the feeling that if I don’t agree I won’t be leaving the ship anytime soon?” He asks, glancing at you both.

“Because you’re a smart lad and you know if Bones and I tell Spock that you need time to-”

“Understood.” Jim tells you. “100% received and understood.” You and Len share a smug smile. “Can I get out of bed now?”

“No.”

* * *

The rebuilding of your friendship was slow with neither wanting to put a step wrong and reopen the void that had separated you in the first place. It moved from a mug of coffee being placed on your station with a soft smile to you moving a few seats up at the lunch table as you arrived with a tray in hand and a fantastic story on your lips. You both missed the raised eyebrows of the bridge crew as you pieced each other back together and failed to hear the muttered ‘oh thank god’s’ as you walked side-by-side and not at arms-length of each other.

Once you were talking again, the rest came easily enough with the bridge soon filling with the sounds of two old friends bickering as you worked to fly through the vastness of space. Bones claimed to hate the return to normal whenever he spent time on the bridge and was often heard asking others how they put up with you.

It was Nyota though who asked you outright, a few weeks after Jim’s visit to Medbay, about the development.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” You say as she steps almost silently into the nook of a bar set into one of the upper decks on the Enterprise. You look up from the glass of dark liquid you were happily nursing to smile at the woman. “You’re going to start thinking I have a problem.”

“You do have a problem.” She tells you sliding onto the stool beside you as the doors hiss closed and you seal you both in here. “But it’s not alcohol.”

You take a drink and laugh. “Yet he’s the one who drives me to it every time.” You set the glass down and meet her eyes with a rueful smile.

“You didn’t stick to the rules.”

“Not true.” You protest. “I stuck to all of them; religiously. They left me unhappy, stressed, drunk and without Jim. But I stuck to the damn rules.” You turn to watch the stars shoot past the window.

“I never meant to make you unhappy.” She tells you, a hand resting on your arm. “But that night you were so…” She trails off. “I thought I was helping you.”

“You did help me, Ny.” You turn back to her and rest your hand atop hers. “You made me realise that he’s more important to me that I ever thought…the bastard.” She laughs.

“I don’t know why you thought Leonard McCoy and I were the right people to help you get over I’m though.” She takes your glass and drains it. “He’s stubbornly single and my boyfriend is an emotionally constipated Vulcan.” You snort at her words.

“And yet you love him.”

She shrugs. “The heart wants…”

“…What the heart wants.” You finish for her and reach for the bottle sat in front of you. “I can drink to that.” You refill her commandeered glass. “To being miserable about those we love.” You toast and clink the neck of the bottle against her drink and take a swig as she daintily sips from the glass.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks as you screw the lid back on.

“About Jim?” You ask, sliding from the stool and checking the time. “Absolutely nothing.” You tell her, straightening out your uniform.

“Nothing at all?”

You shrug. “Being miserable as his best friend beats being miserable alone.”

* * *

Movie night was a tradition you’d greatly missed during Jim’s absence from your life. Nyota was a documentary girl, Bones loved a western, Chekov asked too many questions and Hikaru was a sci-fi freak. None would sit and watch a stupid rom-com or pointless action film with you and the one time you tried to with Spock? Well, it’s not something you wanted to remember.

So finding yourself on Jim’s couch with a blanket thrown over you with the smell of popcorn in the air meant you’d finally get to immerse yourself in a good movie without feeling judged.

“I feel like I’ve definitely seen this one before.” Jim says as he crosses his quarters to join you, a bowl of piping popcorn in hand. “The plot sounds familiar.”

“Of course it sounds familiar; it’s a formula churned out time and time again because they make money.” You tell him, lifting the blanket and settling it over you both.

“So why are we watching it?”

“Because our lives are boring compared to those of superheroes.”

“I’m the Captain of a starship; I spend my days travelling through space and mediating diplomatic meetings with previously unknown species in the quest to expand the Federation…how am I boring?”

“Can’t fly.”

“Excellent point.”

It wasn’t until the film was well into it’s plot of heroes in capes fighting evil aliens did you remember exactly why movie night with Jim was so precarious. You’d both shifted unconsciously on the couch and with his arm resting just behind your head along the back of his sofa you were in a front row seat to be accosted by the majesty that was James Tiberius Kirk. From here, nestled into his side and basking in the heat he gave off, you were privy to an intimate portrait of the man so many called Captain and precious few called friend. It started with his jaw line, that chiselled length of muscle that twitched whenever the aliens were all written of as bad-guys; even when absorbed in sci-fi his mind was on the Federation. Then it was his scent, the one that had mixed seamlessly into your family and surrounded you daily back in Iowa. You couldn’t pin-point what it was, and you’d read enough astonishingly awful fiction as a teen to avoid naming it some weird combination of replicator coffee, hair gel with a touch of something ridiculous like sandalwood…even though that’s the exact body wash he uses.

From his jaw to his aroma to the fingers playing with your hair, you were once again surrounded by Jim and when his lips dropped close to your ear to make some remark about the film you’d basically ignored for the past 10minutes, it all got too much. You could see exactly where this would lead; an unexpected kiss turning into a frenzy of limbs that becomes a sickening memory in the morning. You were springing off the couch, blanket tossed to one side and empty popcorn bowl flying to the floor before anything could progress.

Jim stared at you, a mix of amusement and confusion in his eyes as you stood a few steps away. You heard him pause the movie and then there was nothing but the ever-present whirr of a living starship around you.

“I agree, the acting was awful, and the politics exaggerated but that reaction was a bit much even by my standards.” He says. “And I deal with Bones every day.”

You ignore him and recite your rules in your mind hoping for some iota of comfort from the words scribbled down so many months ago. You found none.

“Are you-”

You interrupt him. “Rule 4.” You say, expecting him to understand and groaning at his questioning look. “I can’t do this Jim, I can’t break rule 4 because then…” You trail off. “We’re inching towards rule 4 and I’ve been so _good_ so far and I know where this…” You gesture between you both. “…is going and I just can’t I…” You sigh and close your eyes for a moment as you centre yourself. “Rule 4.” You say, hoping it’s enough.

“Rule 4?” He asks with a frown. “Starlight, you’re not making any sense.”

You groan at the nickname and hate the warmth that floods you at the sound of it leaving his lips. “You can’t call me that either.”

“Can’t call you what? Starlight?” He asks. “I’ve called you that since we were sixteen and your science project focused on harvesting starlight for solar power.” He reminds you. “Why do I have to stop using it now?”

“Because its another one of those things that makes us not just friends.” You tell him, hands moving to grip your hair in frustration. “Because it’s our thing and I love it when you call me starlight and…and…” You trail off. “Fuck Jim, you just can’t, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.” He says, and the words are so simple it pains you to hear them. To hear that he’s not going to let this go. He stands and as he steps towards you, you see the simplicity of his words give way to an anger that has been brewing for a long time. “I didn’t say _anything_ when you started shutting me out, when you pulled away from me, I didn’t even say a fucking word when you cut me out of your life completely because I thought you needed space; needed some air after everything that happened.”

“Jim-”

“No.” He silenced you. “I get to say this.” You nodded once, fingers playing with the hem of the Academy t-shirt you wore. “It killed me to not have you by my side every day. And yeah, Bones is probably right when he says that’s unhealthy but I don’t give a damn if it’s healthy or not I just know that when I saw you sat so far down the table or when you gave me the briefest of smiles in the corridors, it felt like my heart was being pulled out through my nose!”

“Your nose?”

He pointed at you, eyes narrowed in warning. “Don’t fucking laugh at me.” The smile dropped from your face. “And what? Now I don’t get to spend time with you at all? Don’t get to call you the nickname you’ve had for a decade?” He throws his hands up in exasperation and moves away from you, to the window his quarters boast. “Are you even going to tell me why?”

There’s no softness in his question, no trace of the broken boy you should have been facing. It was a question that had been asked so many times through history; make-ups and break-ups shared it and you’d seen it acted out a hundred times by actors with tears in their eyes. But Jim wasn’t an actor, and this wasn’t a movie; this is your life and as Jim stares at you, you realise that you never thought to ask how he’d handled your pulling away. You’d spent your lives together; from when you were both still in the womb on the Kelvin to pre-school in Iowa to the Academy. You’d always been there for the boy who loved so freely, and it took you stepping back to see the man he’d become.

Jim had been your Captain for a while now, but with his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed on the blackness of space you realised that while you’d always known it, you’d never realised it. The man before you held the weight of an entire starship on his shoulders and was only ever pleased about it. He coordinated negotiations between new planets and the Federation and kept his crew happy.

You questioned why you thought treating him like a puppy who’d get bored when the attention stopped coming, was a good thing.

“I fell in love with you.” You’d never expected to admit it to him. Never thought you’d have to. You’d just assumed that you could go back to being his best friend and that the feelings would dissolve away. You hadn’t realised that the truth was so different. “I _am_ in love with you.” You said, rubbing at your scalp after a few harsh tugs on the ends of your hair as you’d worked everything out. “And trust me when I say that I understand how…unnecessary…those feelings are so I’m working on them.”

His posture is still stiff as he refuses to turn to you. You cross your arms and decided to bite the bullet, glad that the last time you spend with him will have included a thorough analysis of his profile that you can cherish forever.

“I have…rules.” You tell him. “Four rules to be exact. Four rules for getting over you.”

“Rules.” He echoes.

“I know how little you care for them, but I happen to like the idea so-”

“What are they?” He turns slightly to watch you.

“You really want to know?” He nods, and you sigh, take a seat on the arm of the couch and begin counting them off on your fingers. “1) Don’t pick up the phone; you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone. 2) Don’t let him in; you’ll have to kick him out again. 3) Don’t be his friend; you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning.”

Jim waits and you fidget. “That’s only three.” He points out, turning to you fully. “You were rattling on about rule 4 earlier, what is it?”

You hold his eye contact and internally wince at the rule Bones had so crudely worded. “If you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him.”

Jim laughs at that and you take it as a good sign. “I’m guessing you had help with the last one.”

“Go figure.”

You share a small smile as the room falls silent again.

“I get it if you want me to leave. This ship is crazy enough without my damned feelings crowding the bridge.” You offer even though it breaks your heart. “The Academy have wanted me to do a class on advanced weaponry for a while now so maybe I-”

You cut yourself off as he shakes his head. “I don’t want that.”

“Okay, so maybe I just take a vacation on our next planet for a little while?”

“I don’t want that either.”

You sigh. “Now I’ve admitted it, to you and myself, I can’t risk being a hinderance.” You tell him. “I won’t ruin our careers because my first instinct is to rip your clothes off whenever we’re alone.” You force a smile. “Don’t pretend that me telling you how I feel doesn’t make you want to run screaming around the ship. I know you Jim, I’ve known you your entire life; a girl telling you she loves you is your actual worst nightmare.” You remind him. “And I know that because I have seen you wake up with a gasp from that exact dream.”

“It wasn’t the dream, it was the girl.” You frown at Jim and gesture for an explanation. He sighs and takes a set next to you, the regulation grey material matching his Academy sweats. “It wasn’t the fact that she said I love you…it’s that she wasn’t you.”

You pause, eyes wide as you stare at each other. And then you laugh. You laugh and laugh until you’re doubled over with your hands braced on your knees.

“That was so fucking cheesy.” You manage between gasping laughs. “ _It’s that she wasn’t you_.” You repeat in a poor imitation of his voice. “Jim, fuck, thank you; I needed that.” When you manage to straighten up, you notice that the space beside you on the arm of his couch is empty. “Jim?” You glance around, his quarters may be larger than the rest of the crew’s but there’s only so far he can go. “Jim?” You stand and pad into the kitchen area where you find him stood silently and staring at you. “Jim, I’m sorry I laughed but-”

“But the fact that I could love someone is hilarious?” He asks.

“Jim, I know you love me; you love me like a brother.” You shrug. “I get it and I’m sorry that my feelings moved on from it but to be fair it’s hard to stay platonic when you’re between my-”

“My love is about as platonic as yours.” He says, silencing you. “In fact, I’d bet it’s been a far mark off platonic for a lot longer.”

“Jim…”

He runs a hand through is hair. “Why is it so hard for us to accept that we love each other?”

“I…” You pause. “I don’t know.” You step forward and let him wrap you into a hug, your hands joined over his heart. “I wish I’d been honest with you.” You mumble into his t-shirt.

“Me too, starlight.” He presses a kiss to your hands. “Me too.”

You stand like that for a while, fingers intertwined with his lips on your head and your cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt. Neither of you can bare the thought of moving, the thought of disturbing this bubble of honesty you’d created from the chaos of your friendship.

“You have no idea how hard it was to get used to sleeping alone again.” He mumbles into your hair. “Everything smelt like you no matter how many times I washed the sheets.”

“I couldn’t eat a burger for a month.” You tell him. “I avoided our spot and nowhere else made them as good.”

“There’s a dress hanging in my closet that you left at my place on Earth. I hate how right it looks next to my civilian clothes.”

“I brought a spare tooth brush on board with me, because I know you always forget yours…it hasn’t moved from my sink.” You glance up at him. “I miss you.”

“I love you.”

You hesitate, and he raises and eyebrow at you. You smile and press a kiss to his chest. “I love you too.”

His hold on you tightens and you fist his shirt. You wonder how many shifts you can both miss before someone comes looking for you and questions how tightly you’re holding onto each other.

“What was the last rule again?” He asks.

“The one that’s so obviously Leonard I feel like an old Southern man just thinking it?” He laughs. “If you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him.” You recite. “Why?” You ask when he hums lightly. “What are you-” You cut yourself off with an embarrassing squeal as one arm nudges the back of your knees and suddenly your legs are wrapped around his waist. “Did you just _Notebook_ me?” You ask with a laugh as your fingers automatically rake through his hair.

“Says the girl who hates romantic movies.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He grins at you and lets you guide his face to yours, your lips meeting in a soft touch that leaves you both smiling. 

“How many rules did you manage?” He asks, his feet moving you both through his quarters.

“Does it matter?” You ask as the door to his bedroom closes behind you. “I plan on breaking them all from now.”


End file.
